


the way you move is like a full on rainstorm (and i'm a house of cards)

by greyspilot



Series: there are an infinite number of universes (and we belong together in every one) [6]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Fluff, I don't know how to tag this, M/M, Soft Boys, Tumblr Prompt, not a lot of dialogue sorry, they steal some smokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:40:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24109129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyspilot/pseuds/greyspilot
Summary: requested by @harringrovetrashh on tumblr: "you're the kinda reckless that should send me running"
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: there are an infinite number of universes (and we belong together in every one) [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1661146
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39





	the way you move is like a full on rainstorm (and i'm a house of cards)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TaytheBae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaytheBae/gifts).



> title from Sparks Fly by Taylor Swift

“Pack of reds.”

Billy said it casually, running a hand through blonde locks as though buying a pack of cigs was something he did often, as though he wasn’t _underage_. Taking a moment to size him up, the dead-eyed woman behind the counter cocked a brow, didn’t even flinch when Billy flashed that charming grin. (Steve wondered briefly how she did it, because he’d been with Billy for _months_ by now, and that smile still made his knees go _weak_.)

And then everything that came next all happened a little too fast for Steve. One minute the woman was dropping the cigs on the counter with a careless flourish and ringing them up as though she had better things to do (as though she didn’t really _care_ that Billy was _clearly_ seventeen) and the next Billy was snatching the smokes with one hand, grabbing Steve’s with the other.

And then they were fuckin’ _running_.

Steve fumbled a little, tripped over his feet as Billy _bolted_ ahead, as he dragged him out of the mall with quick feet and the kind of ease that only comes with confidence. It’s the kind of confidence that Steve knew he’d never possess, but he didn’t mind that. He didn’t mind falling behind, didn’t mind that it usually took him a minute to catch up, didn’t mind that Billy never _slowed down_.

Because Steve may have caught Billy a while ago, but he still liked the chase, didn’t ever want to stop racing after him.

 _Billy_ definitely didn’t stop, didn’t steady himself to match Steve’s pace. Billy didn’t treat him like he was constantly falling behind because Billy knew he’d never _have_ to - wouldn’t have to stop, to steady himself, to _slow down_.

Billy _knew_ that even if Steve lost his footing, even if he needed some time to find it in the first place, he wouldn’t be left behind. He’d be on Billy’s heels and then right by his side, right where he _belongs_ , in no time.

So they ran.

Billy sped along, swift on his feet, moving with the kind of agility a basketball captain _should have_. Steve stumbled along behind him, held on tight to Billy’s hand as if he was scared of letting go (as if he ever _would_. As if Billy would ever _let him_ ).

They kept running even when their legs were screaming to stop, even when the shouts of _hey, you! Get back here_! had faded into the wind that was rushing through their hair. They ran through the parking lot and they sprinted across the street without looking and they ignored the cars that screeched to a stop, the blares of horns that followed.

Steve was out of breath by the time they reached the woods on the outskirts of town, but Billy didn’t let go of his hand as he took a seat on a log and pulled Steve down beside him. He didn’t let go of Steve’s hand even as he pulled out one of the stolen smokes and placed it between pink lips.

“I could’ve paid for those, you know,” Steve said, his gaze stuck on the way Billy’s lips looked wrapped around the stick.

Billy shrugged, flicked his zippo to light the cig as he said: “So could I.”

He took a deep puff, paused for a moment then let the smoke ghost over his lips, before he continued.

“But sometimes, pretty boy,” he said, his head lolled to the side so he could look at Steve. Billy held the cigarette for him to take. “Sometimes you gotta just do shit that reminds ya' you're alive. Gotta be a little reckless."

And Steve let out a small, breathy laugh as he took the smoke, brought it to his lips and took a long drag.

“Yeah, but,” he said, glancing at Billy and then glancing away too late for Billy to miss his fond little smile on his face, the way his cheeks went a little red. “You’re the kinda reckless that should send me _running_.”

He was never one for smoking, usually only did it when Tommy was around or there was a girl to impress, but there was something _exciting_ about _this_ cigarette. There was something in the knowledge that Billy had just _taken_ this thing (something that Steve could’ve easily _bought_ with his father’s money) and then he’d taken Steve’s hand. There was something about knowing that Billy wouldn’t leave him behind.

And he shouldn’t _like_ it, shouldn’t like the rush of taking things that weren’t his, shouldn’t like the adrenaline he got from almost getting caught. But he did, and that was _all Billy_.

Billy just flashed him that cocky grin (the one that the check-out girl was somehow immune to but somehow, even in this moment, still made Steve’s knees go _weak_ ) and leaned in closer, closer, until Steve was breathing in nothing but smoke and cheap cologne.

“Didn’t I just do that?” he teased, but then his smile grew a little softer, his eyes flicked down to Steve’s lips. Then he said, barely a breath, a secret to be shared just between them: “You wanna run, pretty boy?”

Steve couldn’t help but smile back as he closed the distance between them, and mumbled into the kiss: “Only if you’re gonna take my hand and run with me.”


End file.
